


My love is gonna be enough

by Smoakin_dontburnyourself



Category: Still Star-Crossed (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Basically the brothel scene with a twist, Benvolio plots, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Episode Re-Write, F/M, First Kiss, Jealousy, Rosaline is jealous, Rosaline takes zero bullshit, admissions of trust, shifting pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 03:23:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11797395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smoakin_dontburnyourself/pseuds/Smoakin_dontburnyourself
Summary: "She rolls her eyes at finding him like this, hair a mess, clothes debauched, at a brothel of all places. Of course, of course this is where she would find the Montague"___________Benvolio schemes, Rosaline is Jealous (AKA the brothel scene re-write)





	My love is gonna be enough

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I'm Rosavolio trash still bc here I am
> 
> This whole thing is based off of this-
> 
>  
> 
> Me:  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> (Title taken from Little of your love by HAIM )

 

“You told my uncle we were meant to get to know eachother better, _really_?” Rosaline says, looking as entertained as ever, at her betrothed’s expense, no doubt

 

The streets of Verona are crowded enough that they are forced to walk side by side, pressed together shoulder to elbow, leaning into each other to avoid being overheard.

 

“Well it worked, didn’t it?” Benvolio mutters, his voice huffed and defensive.

 

“Yes” She says, smirking in spite of herself “I suppose it did”

 

But Benvolio isn’t nearly as amused as she. He lets out a breath from between his teeth, the tips of his ears pink from her teasing, and runs a hand through the mess of hair on his head.

 

“Yes, well, In any case, Capulet” he says, leading her around a wagon of hay with a hand on the small of her back “I called on you this afternoon because I have a _lead_ ”

 

“A lead?” Rosaline breezes back, eyebrow perched with curiosity “Pray tell”

 

“I have word of someone who perhaps knows of Truccio’s secrets, an accomplice of sorts”

 

Rosaline nods encouraging him to continue “Well? Where do we find this accomplice?”

 

after only but a moment of hesitation on his end, Impatience upsets her mouth into a frown

 

“The sooner the better, Montague, preferably _before_ they make us go through with absurd wedding”

 

“Yes, Capulet, I am quite aware of our time constraints” he says, looking provoked “I intend to find this common enemy of ours as soon as _humanly possible_. You needn’t worry yourself. I meant only to keep you briefed on the matter, seeing as it is your freedom on the line as much as my own” His words are as sincere as she can hope from a Montague, and she supposes he does have a point.

 

“Well” she says “We can agree on that matter, at least” It’s easier to say than she might have imagined, that they have something in common, even if what they have in common is their mutual desperation to get away from each other.

 

Her admission gets his attention because _of course_ it does, his ears perk, and his eyes light up with the mirth she has come to expect from him, infuriating as it is.

 

“A Montague and a Capulet agreeing?” he mocks, grinning down at her  “A shocking turn of events indeed”

 

The smirk on his face only widens at the roll of her eyes. But before the principle of the subject, the fact that they are somehow working together, can be lost in their teasing, Rosaline tilts her head up and stares back. His blue eyes almost look curious as they regard each other in the middle of the marketplace, as if perhaps they are meeting there, amidst the movement and warm air, for the first time. His gaze, in fact, pools with something less severe than hatred, something open and soft that she’s never seen there before.

 

She doesn’t get a chance to explore what that something might be, because after moment, he clears his throat, straightens his sleeves, and carefully puts back the wall of indifference that seems to always guard his features “Well, now that you are briefed, I will have my nurse escort you home, Capulet” he tells her, already flagging down the heavy set woman with a motion of his hand

 

“Your nurse-? What? _No_ -I’m coming with you” She looks over wearily at where the nurse, having taken the hint, finishes up her purchase

 

“Not a chance” he shoots back tonelessly

 

“If this is some sort of Montague plot, I swear-”

 

“If this were a Montague plot, my lady, I would not very well be telling you all about it, would I?” he asks, eyebrows raised in challenge

 

Rosaline scoffs “Well if it is not, then why will you not let me-”

 

“Lets just say that where I’m going is no place for a lady” he declares “Especially not a noblewoman like yourself”

 

“What on earth-”

 

But then the nurse is upon them, basket of fruits perched on her aproned hip

 

“Ah, Matilda, please see to it that Lady Rosaline makes it home safely, Lord Capulet will be expecting her” The nurse nods obediently and chances a look over towards the Capulet Lady. She finds Rosaline unmoving, feet planted stubbornly, arms crossed over her chest, and glaring daggers at her betrothed.

 

Benvolio, to his credit, hums with civility. He takes an easy step into her space, leans forward, and under the pretense of giving his beloved a chaste kiss goodbye, whispers “If you want to know a man's secrets, Capulet, you must go to where he _spills_ them”

 

He’s close enough that his beard prickles against her cheek and his breath warms the skin of the junction between neck and ear. Her eyes widen with something akin to scandal at his nearness and a small gasp escapes her lips before she can do anything to stop it

 

“Ugh” she says upon regaining her wits “You are _insufferable_ , Montague”

 

Benvolio smirks but does not argue

  


.

.

.

.

 

The hour is late by the time Benvolio emerges from the brothel. He means nothing else but to head home and brood over the newfound information he’s succeeded in acquiring, but then-  

 

“I was starting to think you had gotten lost in there, Montague”

 

The voice startles him into dropping the belt he’d been in the middle of fastening. He scrambles to pick it up, least his pants drop to the ground with it.

 

“What on god's earth- ” he chokes, wide eyes searching the darkness before finding Rosaline seated atop a crate, legs crossed under her skirts, hands clasped together in her lap

 

“ _Capulet_?” he has the decency, at least, to look embarrassed.

 

She rolls her eyes at finding him like this, hair a mess, clothes debauched, at a brothel of all places. _Of course,_ of course this is where she would find the Montague

 

“What are you- _how_ did you-”

 

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news” Rosaline says, interrupting his sputtering “but your riddles aren’t nearly as clever as you make them out to be, Montague” and it was true, innocent maiden as she is, she is no fool. She knew at once where he meant to seek out his information, for there is only one viable place that a man might _spill his secrets_ , a place which she assumes the Montague has extended experience with

 

Benvolio, on his end, chooses to ignores the jab, scowling only a little as he finishes doing the buttons of his doublet “Your uncle-”

 

“Doesn’t know I’m here” she punctates, as if the fact should be common sense. Her dear uncle would kill her if he found out her whereabouts, peace in Verona be damned.

 

After a moment of staring, dumbfoundedly on his end and judgmentally on hers, Benvolio looks around the back entrance of the brothel, searching in the darkness for anyone of consequence who might be lurking there. Finding no one, he takes a forceful stride in the direction of her makeshift bench and through his teeth, demands  “Have you gone utterly mad?”

 

“Have y _ou_ ?” she challenges, refusing to flinch away from his glare “This? This is the place that I could not accompany you to? A _bawdy house_?” She's up from her seat now, pointing an accusing finger to his chest “This is how you intend to solve the mystery of who is pitching our families into bloodshed?” Rosaline scoffs and they speak over one another, neither quite catching what the other is saying

 

“at this rate Montague, we’ll _never_ get out of this awful arrangement”

 

“You should not be here, _Capulet_. If someone were to see you-”

 

As if on cue, a noise startles Benvolio into silence. Rosaline, having apparently missed the disturbance, is still finishing up whatever it is she is saying before Benvolio latches a grip on her arm

 

“ _Trouble_ , Capulet”

 

“Trouble? What trouble? What more trouble can there be than having to marry the likes of yo-”

 

She doesn’t get to finish because then Benvolio is tugging her into motion. She has no choice but to run beside him, cloak tangled, lungs burning, and strands of hair whipping her face. Benvolio jolts to a stop inside a nearby alley, pulling Rosaline against his chest so suddenly that she nearly trips over her skirts.  

 

“For the love of god, Montague, have you finally lost all your sense?” She pants “What do we run from?”

 

In response, the noise grows louder. Footsteps pound on the cobblestone of the street, armor chaffes _clink! clink! clink!_ something, _someone_ , approaches them

 

Rosaline, only slightly heaved over, hand on her hip, forcing her lungs into smooth and shallow breaths, stiffens

 

“Who is it?” she whispers

 

Benvolio shrugs and cranes his neck around the bend of the stone wall “Palace guards making rounds?” He looks at her from over his shoulder “or perhaps a friend of Truccio, Capulet, who knows?”

 

Rosaline plasters herself against the cool stone of the wall and tries to control her hammering pulse. With her eyes closed, head tilted back, and nostrils flaring, she tells him “If you would have just brought me along like I _suggested in the first place_ , this would not be happening”

 

She doesn’t realize that her position presents a disadvantage until Benvolio whips around, huffs out an annoyed breath, and cages her in with a hand flat against the wall over her shoulder, leaving her spine pressed against stone and their chests merely inches apart. She looks up at him in time to see his features dampen with the ghost of outrage

 

“I told you I had a lead, Capulet, was that not enough?” his eyes are wide, as if he cannot really believe _she_ is blaming _him_ for their current situation “I could not very well bring you along-”

 

“Of course you couldn’t! I now see why you needed such _privacy_ ” she spits the word as if it leaves a bad taste in her mouth. They are close, much too close, enough that a breeze might push them together completely.

 

Its an accusation of the worst kind, though Benvolio, on his end, cannot seem to help himself from wondering why she cares at all what he does or does not do at a brothel.

 

Benvolio glances around the alley incredulously “ _What?_ ” maybe he is looking for another witness to this madness  “You cannot be implying that I- that I would-”

 

In a strange, heated voice she retorts “I imply nothing of the sort, _my lord_. I merely say that there must be a reason you required to come alone”

 

They argue in hushed voices as the footsteps grow louder and nearer and nearer……

 

By the time he comes to understand that she _does_ care and that she may, in fact, be _jealous_ , the footsteps are upon them in the form of two palace guards that instead of making rounds, seem to have been enjoying a couple of rounds of drink at the nearby tavern. They practically fall over themselves as they walk in drunken zig zags down the dark street, shoulder armour clattering together when they miss a step and then another _clink! clink! clink!_

 

Both Rosaline and Benvolio peak out the side of the alley just in time to see but not be seen. He can feel the heat of her pressed lightly on his back as she cranes her neck to see.

 

The sight of the palace crest has them retreating back into the safety of the darkness as quickly as they can, though Benvolio doubts the guards will be in any state of mind to remember seeing them in the morning, let alone accusing them of impropriety before the crowned prince himself.

 

After the guards somehow make it past the street, Rosaline turns her eyes heavenward in the way that she so often does “Oh how safe the palace keeps the streets of Verona. It's a wonder why the streets run red with blood”

 

But Benvolio is too distracted to scrutinize the shortcomings of their sovereign and his rule. He is, in fact, riveted by the sight of Rosaline Capulet heated and passionate, every inch of her brave and bold and unwilling to be ignored. She is beautiful, every curl, every glare, every unladylike scoff, he can no longer deny it to himself, he refuses to, not when she’s here, in the middle of the night _caring_  

 

“Rosaline” he says, getting her attention  “If Truccio really did frequent this brothel as often as I have heard, then we know not what other enemies do so as well. I could not very well inquire such things without raising suspicion” his eyes are sincere as his hand finds the slope of her shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. He want’s her to know, he wants her to _trust_ him.

 

“I feigned drunkenness” he smirks, as if proud of his scheming “Nothing more”  he finishes, as serious as he knows how.

 

Rosaline nods after a moment of consideration “I believe you”

 

He can see that she does, he can see, though suddenly he realizes that he wants nothing more than to _touch_.

 

Benvolio takes a step forward back into her space, forcing her backwards into the wall, and leans in so that his lips just barely miss grazing her ear “If I didn’t know any better, my lady, I would think you were jealous” The weight of trusting and believing is gone and now, between them, there is only heat and an orbit that neither can quite pull away from.

 

Rosaline scoffs, as if not expecting him to know any better at all

 

Another few moments pass, neither moves from the dark curtain of the alley, neither pulls back, they stand there and breathe in what the other exhales. Benvolio feels like he might lose his mind, he’s drunk off the fumes, the warmth of her breathing. She looks at him from behind her lashes and in the end, it’s a flicker of her gaze to his mouth that sends them into movement.

 

The quality of the air changes so abruptly that it makes Rosaline gasp, energy lights her senses on fire when her lips finally meet his, warm and frantic, pushing and pulling, taking and giving. Their teeth knock together in their haste, his hands find her hips, and hers the collar of his doublet. They kiss and kiss and he tastes of everything she should not want but wants anyways. She is sweet like the truth and Benvolio has never truly thought that about anything in the world before her.

 

He gets his hands under her cloak, thumbing over the soft skin and groaning like he hurts to touch. Every sound makes Rosaline’s stomach drop and she can’t remember the last time she was so desperate to feel, so aching, it feels like a lifetime ago that someone else’s hands felt so incredible on her skin, perhaps, she thinks, it was never quite like this. There’s nothing she does not want from him in this moment and it should terrify her, she should hate him, she thought she did, but that was before, before she trusted him so absolutely.

 

They pull away at some point, brows grinding against one another, hair wrecked and mouths swollen and shining and wet. Benvolio stares down at her for moment, features soft and unguarded  “I trust you” she says, eyes hazy and firm. “I do not know how, why, when” she tells him, in a burst of giddy emotion  “but I do”

 

He nods, even though he’s not entirely sure he’s worth all her trust, not sure that anything good has ever come for someone trusting him. Still, he takes what she’s offering there in an alley in the middle of the night, drawing her close into his arms, resting his chin atop her head, knowing somehow that nothing bad can come from them being together.

 

“Come now Capulet” he prods  “we have a mystery to solve”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I wrote 2K words on 2 seconds because thats the kind of bullshit this show does to me
> 
> Also: POV are kind of shifty in this one, Its the first time I try this kind of style so comments/critiques would be amazing :)


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